


True Colors

by CatharsisWriter (Platypusaurus)



Series: Soul & Grace [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Mojo, Angel True Forms, Angel Wings, Angelic Grace, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort Sex, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional, Fluff, Grace Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Dean Winchester, M/M, No Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Case, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Self-Hatred, Vessels, Wings, angel lore, takes place after Cas returned from the Empty in Season 13 but there is no Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platypusaurus/pseuds/CatharsisWriter
Summary: A long ride home after another hunt leads somehow to a strange conversation between Castiel and the Winchesters. How does Cas look without his vessel? Will Sam and Dean ever be able to see his wings?Dean is more and more aware of his feelings for his best friend and Angel but can you really fall for someone without even knowing their looks?Can it possibly get any more awkward?Probably not, but then it starts to get hurtful ...





	True Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Since this short story deals with the same topics (Grace, soul, human emotions) as my last English work, I decided to make them a series. You don't have to read part one to follow this story!
> 
> I started writing this as a practice. I don't know where it will lead me. Just let me say, that it won't get too long - I'm thinking about 1-3 more chapters - because I'm far too busy with my other writing projects.
> 
> Please be aware, that I'm no native speaker and this story isn't beta-ed. I just use a simple grammar-/spelling-checker. 
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Dean normally welcomed the exhaustion after a successful hunt as much as he enjoyed the simple excuse not to do anything at all.  
  
Wendigos were kind of easy to handle in theory but according to their strength and humanlike dexterity still something; a big something, if you face a pack of them instead of two, as they had assumed in the first place.  
  
Dean was pretty sure that he didn't want to do anything for a long time from now on.  
He only ached for a shower, a bed, booze, a burger - anything to forget he was not 20 anymore.  
  
Sam, to his left, let out a tired sigh that came out like the groan of a much older man.  
The three of them, Cas included, were hovering over the hood of Baby, still trying to catch their breaths.  
The Angel surely did have enough Grace to be an awesome secret weapon but not enough to leave a fight like this completely unaffected. It was just comforting to have him around, though.  
  
An awful bruise bloomed under the right eye of his little brother and his face seemed to lose its features and turned into a puffy mess while he watched.  
Cas had been able to heal the scratches the wendigos' alpha had left on himself earlier but the remains of blood were still smeared all over his trenchcoat and soaked the former white collar of his dress shirt.  
Dean didn't look much better himself; he could spot his reflection in Baby's front window quite clear in the dark: His face was covered in dirt, sweat and the amount of blood that he lost due to the nosebleed he got after the encounter between his head and the wall of the cave where the wendigos had hidden between their hunts.  
  
"Sam could use some mojo over there, I guess", Dean suggested with another glance over his brother's face, which was twisted in pain. Or at least he assumed it was since the swell had started to suppress any kind of facial movement.  
  
Sam snorted.  
  
Dean turned his head to Cas, his view suddenly blocked by a cool hand pressed to his forehead, the dirty yet surprisingly soft fabric of a trenchcoat's sleeve brushed over his equally dirty cheek.  
Electricity-like energy flickered through the touch of the fingers, crawled under his skin, sent goosebumps all over his spine and adjusted the fracture on the bridge of his nose with an unpleasant CRACK.  
At the same time, the pain from overstressing the muscles on his neck vanished, the puckering where he had bitten his lower lip disappeared. This one he somehow started to miss immediately; it was the welcoming kind of throbbing pain he could handle easily enough. The kind of pain which reminded him of being alive and he secretly tended to deepen when he‘d gnaw on his lip, welcoming the taste of his own blood, a taste of his own vulnerable humanity.  
  
The hand slipped slowly down his face, almost caressing him and he lifted his gaze up to the bright shimmer in Cas‘ too blue eyes.  
"Thanks, buddy", he muttered, his brain suddenly more foggy than right after he‘d hit his head.  
Breathing through his nose became a lot easier after this quick healing but sucking in enough air into his lungs was suddenly so much harder. Where did this weight on his chest come from?  
  
Castiel smiled at him. It was one of his rare, soft smiles, invisible on his lips but crinkling the skin around his beautiful eyes.  
  
'Beautiful.'  
  
A strange attribute to think of while staring at another man – or at least at another being in a male body.  
But he was, Cas was in fact beautiful. Even if his preferred vessel didn‘t have anything to do with his true form, Dean liked to think that his Grace, his personality, formed this beauty on former Jimmy‘s features.  
He also liked to think that the eyes were the visible connection to the true Castiel, just as the saying goes 'The eyes are the windows to a human‘s soul.' The incredible blue he tended to drown in until he was completely lost just had to be a window to the angelic Grace, right?  
  
Dean awkwardly cleared his throat, licked his no longer bruised lips several times. The hand on his face was gone and he missed it so bad he felt ashamed of it.

  
'Keep breathing!', he reminded himself, while he watched Cas healing Sam.

  
Cas was as loving and careful with his brother as with him before. But maybe it was just his own desire which made him think that the Angel had put another note of tenderness into his touch before.  
He watched Sam‘s deformed face reshaping itself until he looked like himself again. And he marveled at the bright blue light glooming through the eyes of Castiel.  
  
Sam thanked their angelic friend with a light hug and a warm smile.  
Dean couldn‘t suppress a sigh. Why was their relationship so easy, uncomplicated? Why couldn‘t he have this kind of connection to someone else? None of the few deeper connections he shared with another person was easy. They were always fragile, burdened with past shadows, cumbered by his own insecure feelings, his own brokenness.  
Of course, Sam was broken, too. But somehow, his little brother was able to be broken on his own, he just didn‘t extend his inner mess to the point he got in touch with other people. He even didn‘t need to drink in order to achieve this independence.  
  
'I‘m not jealous!'  
  
He just wasn‘t.  
  
"Cas!", he blurted without even realizing he had raised his voice. Sam‘s and Cas‘ eyes shot in his direction.  
Man, he had to sound pretty desperate, according to the looks on their faces!  
  
"Yes, Dean?"  
  
It had to be the exhaustion and the drunken feeling of being healed why he felt his cheeks redden.  
  
"Your … eyes ...", he stammered and regretted immediately he had a voice at all.  
Cas tilted his head in his usual questioning bird-like manner and even Sam looked slightly irritated by Dean‘s bluntness.  
  
"Was just … curious … uh … - Jimmy!"  
  
'Cuckdamnit.'  
  
Sadly, he didn‘t even have the excuse of a proper concussion after being healed. Again, it was just him, acting like a complete fool.  
He gulped in enough air to risk a hickup and only managed to suppress it by releasing an uneasy chuckle.  
  
"Just tired, that‘s all", he muttered with a shrug and a forced smile.  
Cas nodded understandingly but Sam shook his head a little too pitiful for Dean‘s taste.  
  
"I could drive the first few hours while the two of you try to regenerate", came the surprising suggestion from Cas and Dean nodded thankfully.  
  
They were a half-a-day drive away from the bunker but no-one of them looked forward to another night in a shabby motel room.  
They climbed in the car, Dean riding shotgun, Sam in the backseat, while Cas started the purring engine after taking the keys from Dean‘s sweaty fingers.

  
The horizon showed the first glimpse of sunrise; an orange line of morning fire breaking the night‘s blue, turning it into the dusty grey of early dawn.  
Dean watched it with heavy eyelids. His body ached for some rest, so did his mind, that worked too hard for his own good but his emotions rushed fiery through him, tickling his nerves enough to refuse him the desired sleep.  
  
The soft snoring behind made clear that Sam didn‘t share his inner turmoil. Of course not.  
  
'Lucky bastard hasn‘t fallen for his best non-human friend, you dumbass.'  
  
His own thoughts made him flinch.  
  
"Isn‘t it beautiful, how the night turns into day, Dean?", Cas asked next to him.  
"When was the last time you watched the sun rising?"  
  
'Beautiful.'  
  
"Uh … I dunno. I really can‘t remember", answered Dean honestly to the strange yet purely interested question.  
  
"You should try to enjoy it when you cannot calm down enough to sleep right now", Cas said softly. "The grace of nature always has a relaxing effect on the human mind.“  
  
'Grace.'  
  
He begged, that Cas stayed out of his mind as he promised him so long ago in another lifetime. He just couldn‘t know what he was thinking.  
But somehow, Cas did.  
  
"What was it that you wanted to ask me before we left, Dean? Your question about Jimmy?"  
  
"You in my head again, Cas?", Dean asked sharply but felt incredibly weak.  
  
"I am not. I was just wondering, what bothered you about Jimmy. We never talked about him before. And you seem troubled."  
  
"Well, why should we talk ‘bout ‘im, eh? He‘s dead, anyway!"  
  
Suddenly, Dean was hit by the feeling that he might have said something rude or hurtful.  
  
"Look, it‘s nothin‘. Was just curious ‘bout some feathery facts."   
  
He paused, hesitant if he should go on. Cas still didn‘t answer.  
  
"Uhm … the color of your eyes … is it yours or Jimmy‘s? You know … is probably some mushy shit. But somehow I imagine your eyes as the only part of the vessel that is truly yours, y‘know. … Just forget, what I said, ‘kay?"  
  
He knew he was blabbering, so trying to keep his mouth shut after this embarrassing revelation of personal shit was the best he could do.  
He dared to peek over to Cas with a nervous chuckle and realized to his surprise, that the Angel was smiling.  
  
"You do want to know what my true exteriors look like, don‘t you?"  
  
"Yes", Dean answered, a little breathless but relieved that Cas didn‘t seem offended.  
  
He'd never thought explicitly about how the real Angel might look in his - their? - true form but now, after Cas just had put it into words... It was exactly what he desperately wanted to know all along since they had met over a decade ago.  
  
"You know, I can't reveal myself to you," Cas continued and Dean just nodded, fully aware of the Angel observing him through the corner of his eyes, while he kept driving.  
  
"The moment, when Jimmy allowed me to use his body - to serve me in the most honorable way - it was destined to be. I had several vessels every time I had to come down from heaven. With Jimmy, it was different, though."

  
The light snoring behind them had suddenly stopped; Dean was quite sure that Sam was wide awake now and listened as fascinated as he did to Cas' words.  
  
"You cannot choose your form of appearance as you have no choice to which kind of species you're born to. The fact, that James Novak accepted

me and served me so well that he even took the risk of dying made this body my personal human form. One way or another, if I'd been born as a human being, this would have been exactly what I looked like. In order to answer your question: Yes and no. These are both, mine and Jimmy's eyes."  
  
  
Silence followed after this small lecture and Sam wasn't the only one holding his breath anymore.  
  
"Cas...," Dean said after several tries to fully understand what Cas had just told him.  
"When did you shove that stick up your ass again? First in a long time, that you sound like the crazy halo-ed dickheads again!"  
  
"Damn it, Dean!", Sam shouted not so sleeping-like from the back seat and made him jump in surprise.  
"He just told you something really personal about his kind, about himself, so finally stop being such an ignorant asshole!"  
  
Dean shrugged it off.  
"'m no asshole. Just super honest about this."  
  
"Yes, you are! Jerk!"  
  
"Bitch-!"  
  
"Stop it, both of you!"  
Cas' voice sounded unusually sharp, a hint of is Grace rambled through it and made Dean shiver again.  
He craved for more of it; Cas showing off his power, even just a glimpse of it, made him feel safe, a little more whole. Somehow it was even promising that he wouldn't lose him too soon again. Because the stronger he was, the harder he was to hurt - right?  
  
"So, what you just said ... You got blue eyes, then? It's not just Grace leakin' out or somethin'?"  
  
He saw Cas wincing to his words but was also aware of the smile that crumpled and softened the Angels strong features all along.  
  
"No, Dean. This is not my Grace. You have met so many Angels in human vessels by now. You surely did realize, that they all had individually colored irises?"  
  
"Sure, man. But none of 'em had his own personal human body, right? They were just borrowing. You said, Jimmy's like yours for real, now."  
  
Cas simply sighed to that, but it didn't sound annoyed or stressed.  
  
"You should try to sleep a little."  
  
Dean hummed in agreement and shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. Probably it was best to stop digging any further.  
  
But sleep wouldn't come. He didn't feel satisfied in all his questions and thoughts about his Angel.  
  
'His Angel.'  
Another thought, that startled him enough to keep him from sleeping.  
  
"What else do you want to know, Dean?", Cas suddenly asked, as if he'd knew exactly how wide awake and curious Dean was.  
  
"N-nothing", he choked in his perplexity and it was actually just half a lie. Half because he didn't know the right words to ask, which left him without another question he could phrase. At least not without being offensive again.  
  
"And Sam?", Cas passed the question to the younger brother who was obviously more prepared to ask about highly sensitive issues.  
  
"Is there any possibility to see your true form for a human? Without getting one's eyes or brain liquidized?"  
  
Well, this didn't sound less brisk than anything that Dean had asked before, so why was Sammy always complaining about his so-called lacking in tact?  
  
"And could we see your wings? Not just their shadows?"  
Sam's voice shivered in prying.  
  
Cas licked his lips which left a dry clicking sound and made Dean's eyes focus on his mouth.  
  
"No... not at all. There is no way for a living human being to see the true form of an Angel and resisting the... overwhelming effects of it."  
  
Dean snorted to that.  
Overwhelming - what a crude understatement.  
  
"But you could see my wings if I was willing to show them to you."  
  
"And? Are you?"  
  
Dean tried as hard as he could to ban the hope from his voice. He wasn't too successful. Sam chuckled softly.  
  
Cas hesitated for a while, seemingly considering his answer before he spoke again.  
  
"As you know, they are irreparably damaged and therefore not pleasant to look at. May I ask, what awoke this sudden interest of yours about my appearance above the human form?"  
  
Dean noticed, that he didn't say 'vessel' again, as if he wanted to point out how this body now really belonged to him.  
It was strangely comforting.  
Castiel addressed himself as part human, right? Or at least as an Angel with human features and experiences. That deepened the connection they shared... Put them on a more equal level. It had to.  
  
"'t'was always there, I was always curious, nothin' new", Dean admitted. "In the beginning, I was just too freaked out and maybe... a lil' disappointed by the whole Angel'n'Heaven plus God-thing, y'know. Came directly outta hell and you left me dealing with it, with your existence and saving me from the pit and that you were the only feathered dude from up above who wasn't a complete asshat."  
  
He paused at that, took a moment to sort his memories.  
  
"And later, it just didn't matter anymore. You became a friend, family. Wasn't important anymore what yer made of. Just what you did and mean to us. 's all that matters, so I didn't ask. Doesn't mean, I've never cared or thought 'bout all this."  
  
The smile never left Cas' face, instead, it grew warmer, almost tenderly.  
"So, what made you ask this tonight, Dean? What made the change for you?"  
  
'The way you make me feel.'  
  
That would've been the true answer and the one Dean just couldn't give. Not in front of Sam, not if the possibility existed, that his words could change something, anything between them.  
  
"You - uh. Your eyes, when you were healing me'n'Sam... You just had this look and I was... Y-you-"  
  
What was wrong with his stupid brain, why couldn't he talk like he was normal, why couldn't he breathe without stammering things out?!  
  
'Shitshitshit, pull yourself together, you stupid shit!'  
  
Maybe Dean couldn't tell the exact moment when he'd fallen for his best friend, he only knew, it was years ago. But he was brutally sure about the moment, Cas and Sam became aware of it, too.  
  
He closed his eyes, terribly regretting he didn't try harder to fall asleep.

 

Surprisingly, Cas came to his help.

  
"Did you know, that the human eyes truly are the window to the soul?", he suddenly changed the topic.

  
"Really, Cas? How is that possible? The eyes are the only visible part of the brain, though!", Sam shot immediately, completely lost in his element of collecting as much information as possible.

"Every soul has its own color, just as individual as a fingerprint. Or the color of someone's eyes, for example. The color of the soul is not equal to the shade of the irises since the soul is connected to the emotional state of a person. Of course, there is also a kind of a basic tone, that only changes due to events which affects someone deeply on a mental level. It's that shade, which shines through a person's eyes. It's invisible to humans, but Angels and Demons are able to see it."

"That makes sense!"  
Sam sounded way too enthusiastic for Dean's taste.  
"Is this the reason, why we say about someone who's lost their soul, they're having 'empty eyes'?"

Cas approvingly confirmed Sam's theory and Dean began to wonder what the Angel was able to see through their eyes. Especially through his own.  
Dean didn't bother to count the events, which had damaged them in the long turn. By now their souls had to be so extremely fractured, if not completely shattered, their sight could only be sickening.  
His soul had to be thoroughly awful.

Shame washed over him in such an intensity he almost felt strangled by it. He did feel stupid for being in love with his best and non-human friend. Stupid because how could an Angel return this kind of feelings? Stupid because he tended to ruin everything that went deeper than a simple one-night-stand. Stupid because having feelings for someone put them in so much danger. It turned himself so incredibly vulnerable it almost made him sick.  
  
And now he felt even worse because how could someone - some _thing_ \- with a soul this ugly dare to love a being so pure as the best Angel there had ever been?


End file.
